


Nevada 'Papi' Ramirez

by OhBelieveYouMe



Category: Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Baby Momma Love, By 'Papi' I mean an actual 'Papi' not a sexy 'Papi' you dirty birdies, Co-Parenting, Domesticity, F/M, Teenage Drama, Teenage Rebellion, teenage daughter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhBelieveYouMe/pseuds/OhBelieveYouMe
Summary: Eighteen years ago, Nevada Ramirez met the embodiment of an angel; his soulmate, Mia. Sixteen years ago, Nevada Ramirez met the absolute love of his life; his daughter, Annabelle. Time has a funny way of making people crazy, but there was one thing he knew for certain- Nevada would always be crazy about his girls.A series exploring fatherhood and family life with Nevada Ramirez.





	1. The Dress

**Author's Note:**

> _Warning: Cursing. Teenagers do that to ya, I know I made my parents curse a looooooot when I was younger._

The most adorable cherub that had ever graced the Earth twist and squirmed to force herself out of her mother’s embrace. Dark curls bounced and twirled as she passionately struggled past being held, until her little white shoes finally landed on the sidewalk.

“PAPI!” Annabelle ran straight to the man who made most tremble, and curled her little arms tight around his neck. Plentiful miniature kisses landed on his face,  Nevada couldn’t imagine a better place to be than here in this moment.

“Mi amor, ( _My love_ )” He tried to slide his sunglasses to the top of his head, but he could barely manage to get them past the sweet affections of his three year old. Oh, it had been so long since she showered him with sweetness, every inch she reached was Holy and precious. “Mi corazón ( _My heart_ ),” instead of bothering with his shades any longer, Nevada happily buried his face in the ruffles on her dress. To hide the little tears of happiness, yes, but also to smell the most innocent scent of baby lotion and the lavender oil her mother used.

Hesitantly, he lifted his head, and bounced her so she’d be propped up on his hip. “Thank you,” he spoke sincerely when a young woman who strikingly resembled the sweet girl in his arms approached. “Seriously, Mia, thank you-”

The gratitude was returned with a meek smile, one that appeared to pain her to even share. Delicately, she ran her fingers through the little girl’s dark curls, and lifted the bag she had hanging from her shoulder. “Please be safe, Nevada,” he could hear the sadness in her voice. “She’s my world, I can’t even imagine if-”

Nevada reached for her, grabbing hold of her wrist so he could place a polite kiss on the knuckle of her pinkie- a promise. “Mia, I swear, I’ll take great care of her.” Of course he would, and deep down, she thought she knew it.

Her lip trembled, and she took away the hand he had his lips pressed to. Of course, he hadn’t expected her to show him any affection or benevolence- this was already the best thing she could have ever done for him. Mia was well aware, too. This was against every motherly instinct she had, but how long could she raise a child on her own? 

Little girls need their Daddy. Even if their Daddy was _Trujillo_.

“If you wanted to come with us, you could…” It was a stretch, Nevada knew it, but he would always try anyways. “I’m sure Anna would love it-”

Mia shook her head side to side, and he watched on forlornly as her brows bunched together. “No, no.” Hoping to be helpful, she surrendered the bag and slid it up his arm opposite of their daughter. Mia bit her bottom lip at the sight. Trujillo, the King of Washington Heights; with a little girl on his hip and a pink paisley diaper bag dangling from his shoulder. “I have faith, you’ll be fine.”

Nevada huffed, but wouldn’t let the denial bring him down. Oh no, not when he’d already been convincing enough to earn the company of his sweet little girl. What were they going to do? Go to the park. Explore the city. Find every single exciting thing they could enjoy together: he had a whole weekend to impress her, and damnit, he intended to do just that. “Have you been good for your Mami?” It was mostly rhetorical- she was always so good, for everyone.

Knowingly, Annabelle nodded, but dismissed the conversation soon after. “I missed you, Papi!” Her little palms landed on his face, so she could twist his head to face her. It had been at least a couple months since he had seen her- Mia had been denying to let him _near_  her since he got thrown in jail for a ( _he’d argue, very minor_ ) assault charge. It had taken too much begging to get this chance, but oh it was all worth it now. “I loooove you, Papi!” A sloppy smooch for his nose, and he knew no other sentiment could have been sweeter.

“I love you too, Anna,” more kisses for her cheeks, her ribbon-clad shoulders, her little chin and lips. She was so pure, so perfect; there was nothing Nevada loved more than his precious, precocious little angel. “We’re gonna have the best weekend, I promise you baby.” While walking towards the waiting car around the block ( _he’d never put her in the too-familiar Escalade_ ), he leaned in close to whisper a secret, “and we’re going to go eat **all**  the ice cream you can stomach.”

She squealed, he swore angels would swoon if they had been so blessed to hear her little voice squeak so in excitement; and little Annabelle hugged him so tightly he thought he wouldn’t be able to breathe. That’s fine, though. Her embrace was better than air, meant more to him too.

* * *

> **_13 years later~_ **

* * *

Annabelle came bounding down the stairs quicker than usual. Typically it took her hours to get ready to go anywhere, and she had only mentioned all of twenty minutes ago that one of her friends had called upon knowing she was at his place for the weekend. 

Naturally, Nevada hadn’t been so sure what they had planned when he initially agreed… but he had business to take care of tonight, anyways.

Up to her tiptoes, and his sweet girl left a succinct peck on her father’s cheek before twisting to head towards the door. That wasn’t unusual in or of itself, was rather typical actually, but for some reason it _felt_  just a bit different? He brushed at his face and checked his thumb; lipstick?

Nevada perked a brow and turned to the clock, it was starting to get late. A quick survey of her just before she turned the corner- what the Hell did his daughter have planned that would require _lipstick_? “Where you goin?”

“Out.”

Oh was she? “Out where, Annabelle?” Nevada hated repeating himself, but knew better than to show his agitation. Teenaged girls were like fuckin’ sharks he’d learned- they _smell_  annoyance and weakness, he’d swear by it.

Apparently she had little intentions of indulging him. “Where do YOU go when YOU go out?” Why did she always pull this shit when she was at his house? She used to be so open with him, would talk to him about anything and everything- now he had to argue for an answer _while_  she mocked him.

“I get business done,” Since she apparently wanted to argue, he turned on his heel- just in time to catch a quick glimpse of her dress before she managed to shrug her long jacket on. “Nooooo no no-” Nevada grunted and tore across the room quicker than lightening to snatch at her shoulder. He stole her coat in a swift pull, and continued shaking his head side to side in immense disapproval. “Fuuuuck no.”

Immediately, she went doe-eyed, and feigned pure innocence while twisting a bit. “Papiiii,” that awful high-pitched and cavity-sweet voice that got pulled out of her back pocket when she wanted something. He knew it too well. “It’s not _that_ bad-”

“Annabelle,” if she wanted to use that voice, he’d use her full name; “it **is** that bad." 

"I like it,” she squirmed and gave the bottom hem of the definitely-too-short-skirt a pull downwards, hoping to make it appear just a bit more modest. “Mami has dresses like this…” Of course, the mini dress just slid up with her standing back up straight.

If she did, he certainly hadn’t seen any of them in the last sixteen years… not that he would mind seeing her mother in something like that ( _he fought the urge to picture lovely Mia in a similar little black dress, now was not the time_ ). “Your mami is a grown fuckin’ woman,” he rolled his eyes and splayed his fingers towards the staircase. “You’re a child, go change.”

Her nose crunched, and she straightened her spine.  
Nevada started getting a headache purely from the anticipation of what was to come…

“I’m NOT a child anymore, Nevada-”

Oh he **_loathed_**  when she did that, used his name, and she fuckin’ knew it. “I’m your father, don’t get so formal.” What happened to Daddy, Papi, anything short and sweet- Hell, what happened to his sweet lil princesa in general? “And you ARE a child, you’re just a lil’ girl who thinks she’s tough shit.”

Another look at the clock- this had turned into chaos. Prolonged chaos.  
Nevada had shit to do. As in, he _really_ did not have time for **this**.

“Mami would let me wear it out…”

Oh would she? “I don’t think I fuckin’ asked your mami.” But now he absolutely knew he needed to ask her about that- the hell was she thinking? “Go change or you’re not going anywhere.”

She stomped her foot, the ping of her stiletto rang throughout the foyer and Nevada debated making her change out of those stupid shoes, too. “You’re awful,” the accusation fell on unconcerned ears, until she realized it hadn’t had an effect. Time to bite harder. “Just because you’re some thug whenever I’m not here doesn’t mean you get ‘ta tell me what I can and can’t wear!”

Thug? Where was she getting this shit- he _never_  talked business around her, very purposefully. “I’m your father, of course I get to tell you what to wear.” He didn’t want to address the 'thug’ comment, not now. “And no daughter of mine is going to go out lookin’ like a two-cent whore.”

Her jaw fell, and she paused in her trek back up the staircase. “A _whore_?” She asked incredulously, while leaning over the railing to the point where he worried she’d tumble over. “I  **HATE**  you- I can’t **believe**  you would say that to me.” Stomping now, so he could hear every damned time her heel hit a step, “I **hate**  you, I’m never coming ‘round here again after Mami comes tomorrow. I **absolutely HATE** you.”

She hates him? Not just hate- but _absolutely hated_ him? His sweet little girl, the angel that used to give him pictures she crafted from finger paints and glitter, she _absolutely hated_  him? Nevada had no idea what just clicked in his black little heart, but like a dog mindlessly chasing a car bumper, he found himself bolting his way up those stairs. Annabelle’s eyes went wide, and she smartly started off in a firm run.

Nevada would never hurt his daughter. He knew it, she knew it in the recesses of her mind. In fact, he didn’t have the slightest idea what he would do if he actually caught her- but he wouldn’t get the chance anyways.

Once she made it to her room, she slammed the door in his face, just in time for the doorknob to hit his hip and make him wince. Of course, he tried to open it, but the smart girl had locked it shut. “ANNABELLE, YOU OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR-” this was _his_  house. And here he was, Trujillo himself, King of the underworld in Washington Heights; demanding entrance to a room in _his_  house from a child.

“NO, AND STOP BANGIN’!” Really? Just because she had said that, he went insane on that stupid fucking door, rattling the wood on its hinges with every couple punches he lay on it with his fists. “You’re the worst, Nevada, and I **fucking hate you**.”

Nevada. She hated him, and called him _Nevada_. Cute kid. This was bullshit, utter bullshit. “You’re a brat-” he hollered back, while pressing his forehead against the barrier keeping him from her. “Open this door or I’ll take it down, little girl-”

“Do it,” her taunts made him see red. “I don’t fuckin’ care.”

Oh, she didn’t? One firm punch, and he howled afterwards while gripping his bloodied knuckles to his chest- but he did indeed manage to blow a hole through the middle of the door. Damn, so _that’s_  what real adrenaline can do to you; if only the people who he actually wanted to beat into oblivion could get him as heated as his daughter could.

In pure disbelief, Annabelle climbed off her bed, and made no efforts to hide her slack-jaw as she took a few very careful steps towards the damaged entrance. She was confronted with her father’s angry glare- and it actually convinced her to pull her lips between her teeth. Maybe she had taken it a little far; her mother would have definitely given up before destroying a door… apparently her Papi was a different beast. Noted.

Realizing she had changed into pajamas, apparently she already knew she wouldn’t be leaving the damn house after the teenaged-tantrum she had thrown ( _smart girl_ ), Nevada pointed at the black dress that had been draped over the edge of her bed. “Give it, Annabelle, or I’m _going_  to come in there.”

Obediently, she bent at the waist, and bundled up the dress into a ball before throwing it towards the crude new window he had jutted an arm through. Nevada caught it easily, then turned to take his leave. If he said anything else, or if she dared to explain how she _hated him_  again, there was a good chance he wouldn’t be able to bite his tongue.

Once down the stairs, Nevada made a phone call;   
 _“Reschedule it, I can’t get out… Because I fuckin’ said so, you need my life story, whats’a matter with you- fuck you… I just cut my damn hand open, don’t make me bust your fucking skull with it, chico…”_

At least he didn’t have to worry about being polite to them.  
His men could buffer his fury any day. That’s why they were there.

* * *

> _**The Next Morning~** _

* * *

Mia expected Annabelle to come out to the car, not Nevada.  
Unfortunately for her- she definitely had a glowering Trujillo headed her way.

“What’s wrong with you, Nevada?” Apathetically, she slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose. “Where’s Anna-”

“Don’t you ’ _Where’s Anna_ ’ me,” that sounded a lot less damning after it came out, maybe he didn’t need the sass. Actually, he regretted it just a bit after she crunched her face in indignation. God, why did their daughter have to look so much like her, it felt like deja-vu of the evening before. “What the fuck is this?” Gruffly, he tossed the dress he had made Annabelle turn over last night, right through her window.

Casually, Mia unbundled the sorry excuse of a dress, and perked a brow as she examined it. “Looks like somethin’ someone you’d pick up would wear,” he scowled but she didn’t see it, didn’t even take the time to look up at him. “Why’re you giving me a skank-dress, Nevada? I’m here for Anna, not to hear about how you’re still a whore-”

First he tried the handle for the door, but Mia wasn’t stupid- she had locked it the moment she saw him coming out of the apartment. So instead, he bent at the waist, and rest his elbows against the opened window. “YOUR daughter came downstairs in that shit, saying she wanted to go out,” dramatically, he splayed fingers towards the strappy ensemble, and his ex quickly turned attention back to the dress in question. “I made her go change, and she said that YOU would have let her wear it.”

“Nevada, are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Defiantly, she threw the bundle out of the window, so it would lay puddled at his feet. No way was that going home with her. “She prolly’ saw some bitch you brought around wearing somethin’ similar and got the hot idea, why do you think she saved it for your weekend?” Her finger wagged in his face, and he clicked his teeth to show he’d bite at it if she dared to do it again. “I’d never let her wear shit like that, I don’t even wear anything like that- where is she?”

He groaned, and kicked at the damned dress so it’d go under her car. Hopefully she’d run it over when they left. “Packing her shit, she should be down any minute,” curiously, though no longer quite as accusatory, he turned so he could catch her eyes. She really was pretty, still, after all these years of pissing him off. “She said she hated me, Mia.” The softness in his tone made her eyes go wide, “what happened to her bein’ a Papi’s girl?”

Mia plumped out her bottom lip at his dramatics, though it barely hid the snide smirk slipping over her face. It was pathetic seeing him so down. “Don’t take it so hard,” she suggested brightly while patting condescendingly at his cheek with her fingerprints. “You’re easy to hate, Nevada,” he slapped her hand away but chose not to back off the car- not yet. It was nice being so close to her, even if she took the opportunity to taunt him. He’d rather her give him shit than not talk to him at all. “She’s sixteen, she’ll forget about it as soon as I ground her for even buying that stupid thing.” Sunglasses went back up when she noticed their daughter trotting their way, arms crossed over her chest as she pouted. “Give her a week no-cell-phone and no-leaving-the-house, she’ll be _begging_ to come back to Papi’s.”

In spite of the droll conversation, Nevada smiled. Mia always had a way of making things better. “You know,” he shamelessly leaned further into the window, and she remained stoic and strong in her place even though he was nearly close enough to touch noses with her- “if she’s grounded and can’t leave the house, I could always take you out; lock her up, you and I can have a good night…”

She tisked her tongue and wagged her head knowingly side to side. The look he received hurt, deep down in that awkward corner of his heart that only she and their daughter could hit with that oh-so-familiar leer from their beautiful eyes. Almost as much as it hurt when she started rolling up the window while he was still lounging inside. “Say goodbye to your Papi, Annabelle-” Mia ordered after hearing her hop into the passenger seat. “And say goodbye to that awful shitshow of a dress you thought you could sneak around in.”

Annabelle didn’t look up, only slumped down in her seat and turned attention to the window. “Te amo, Papi,” it was a whisper, but at least it wasn’t the same sentiment she’d relayed the night before. He’d rather a forced 'I love you’ than an 'I hate you’ any day.

“Te amo, princesa-” he saw her smile, even though she tried to hide it, and that would be enough. Mia wiggled fingers in a simple, unfeeling goodbye- then finished closing her window. Without even waiting for him to back off, she tore away from the curb, and he watched silently as the women in his world did as they always had to eventually…

**Leave**. One day, he’d change that. One day…


	2. El Protector

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: References to domestic violence & good ole typical violence.

It had been an oddly quiet breakfast. Just as the whole weekend had been.

First, Nevada tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was, indeed, a _teenager_. Sometimes she couldn’t stop talking, sometimes she cried for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, sometimes she’d rather lock herself in her room than talk to him. Especially lately, he pondered while taking a drink of his coffee- lately, she had been acting a bit peculiar. But silence, though odd, was not really cause for concern considering all the _loudness_ that typically came with his precious Annabelle.

That is, until it was finally broken.

“Papi…”

Nevada looked up from his phone, and cocked his head to the side. That didn’t sound like a happy ’ _papi_ ’. “Si, Anna?”

Upon catching his eyes with her own, Annabelle sighed. “Papi, there’s somethin’ I’m not supposed to tell ya’…” she fiddled with her cereal, spun her spoon around and watched absently while the Cheerios followed the path.

Well that’s fascinating, isn’t it? “Sounds like somethin’ you should tell me.”

A huff, just like the ones she made when he’d ask her to do homework or chores, as if he were literally dragging the conversation out of her. “Papi, do you know Steven?”

Very, very slowly; he shook his head side to side in a curt denial. Nevada did not know any ‘ _Steven_ ’s, none he could recall at least.

“Well, Steven’s Mami’s boyfriend,” Anna chewed on the inside of her cheek, letting that bit sink in before proceeding; “and he was really really nice, I liked him a lot-”

Nevada was growing increasingly uncomfortable with all the past tense she was using. The fact Mia was seeing someone else was unsettling, but not surprising. They both have had their own lives for fifteen or so sad years now- and she was a lovely woman. It didn’t shock him at all she had a man.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t loathe the lucky bastard just because he was _hers_.

“But Papi, he lost his job,” She dropped her spoon, and propped her head up in her hands after dropping elbows to the table top. “He lost his job and I think it just put him in a funk, you know?”

Where the Hell was this going? “Happens…” 

A nod in reply; “and he, well, he hadn’t gotten another yet,” her lip trembled, and Nevada’s nose crunched in confusion. “But he’s been drinking and he’s not so really, really nice when he drinks.”

That, that he didn’t like. Not at all. “Annabelle, what do you mean?”

“I know he’s hit mami-” Nevada couldn’t decide if that brought on a deafening roar or unrelenting silence; bells began ringing in the recesses of his thoughts. Anna leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly finding it difficult to find a comfortable spot. It was a sign of her subtle anxiety, Nevada and Mia both knew their daughter couldn’t sit still when she was worried- “And he shook'a me up the other day; but, Papi, I was bein’ rude.”

“Excuse me?” She’s a teenager, she’s supposed to be rude- but nobody should be shakin’ her any way. “What do you mean?” Oh, Nevada tried to keep his cool, by splaying out his fingers on the table top and distracting the heat coming to his face with the chill of the smooth wood under his hands.

Anna winced- but she’d already come this far. “It’s not all that bad but;” very delicately, she slid the sleeve of her sweater down off her shoulder. Obvious bruises gleamed back at Nevada: fingers and a palm curled around both of her biceps, he’d left similar ones on grown men before. They had no business being on his daughter. “It just freaked me out a bit, ya know? I’m worried about him.”

She had every right to be worried about him. Especially now.

“Can you just talk to him, Papi?” His stony silence didn’t worry her, no, not as much as it should have. Thankfully, Nevada had gotten too good at a poker face; and Anna wasn’t familiar with the way his brows knit together. “I know Mami really likes ‘im, but I’m just scared.”

Nobody would make a Ramirez scared.  
Especially _his_ daughter.

He bought the opportunity to calm himself down with a long sip of coffee. “I’ll talk to him, Anna.” Nevada clenched his jaw and forced a smile from the other side of his mug. “Don’t you worry, you’re never gonna be scared again.” Not as long as he had anything to do with it.

* * *

> Nevada went to his own room after their conversation, and hastily went to dialing Annabelle’s mother;
> 
> _**“Mia, how you doin?” He chuckled; “Whatchya’ wearin?”** _
> 
> _“What do you want, Nevada?”_
> 
> _**“I’m bringin’ Annabelle home today-”** _
> 
> _“… why?”_
> 
> _**“Reasons. Make sure Steven’s there.”** _
> 
> _Silence, until: “Nevada, what’d she tell you?”_
> 
> _**“I just need to talk to Steven, I promised mi princesa.”** _
> 
> _“Are you being jeaaaaloussss?” He could picture her smirking. “Poutin’?”_
> 
> _**Oh she thought she was cute, didn’t she? “Mia- if he’s not there, I’m gonna have to go find him;” he took a puff from his cigar, exhaled- “And if I have to go find him, I’m gonna be really pissed off about it…”** _
> 
> _“… Nevada,”_
> 
> _**“And Mia… you know I’ll find him.”**  
>  _
> 
> _She knew. “Nevada, don’t make things harder.”_
> 
> _**“Mia, I’d do anything for you-” A meaningful pause. “But this ain’t for you.”** _
> 
> _More, damning silence._
> 
> _**“We’ll be there around four, Mia.”** _

* * *

It was starting to be very clear that things were not alright.

Of course, Annabelle’s first hint was when her father advised that he’d be taking her home. Mia always brought Anna there and picked her up after the weekend was over- but naturally, she wouldn’t argue. The second tip was how quickly he tore himself from the car once they pulled up to her mother’s home, Nevada didn’t wait for her or offer to carry her bag.

“Why you pushin’?” Mia flinched as he helped himself into her home after shoving the door open, and was nearly floored when her ex stormed right past her. A blonde, Nevada accurately assumed that must be Steven, went doe-eyed when the man clad in black sauntered his way. “Nevada, you be good,” her warning fell on deaf ears, and only managed to illicit the creepiest smile to pull on his face. The blonde flinched.

Yea, that _had_ to be Steven.

Mia huffed after her ex, and slapped at Nevada’s shoulder in an attempt to get his attention. Honestly, it was very rare for her to _not_ be able to swing his gaze her way- something was going on, and she did not appreciate being left in the dark. “What do you want? Don’t be doin’ anything stupid-” He didn’t so much as look at her, only narrowed his glare on the now barely-shivering blonde. 

Intimidation was one of Nevada’s most useful gifts.

Even if Mia was lost in her adulation and the whirlwind of her relationship ( _puuke_ ): Nevada had absolute faith she would _never_ allow harm to come to their girl. Not lying down, at least. That left a very simple explanation to the confusion and tensions that were quickly rising despite his silence.  
_Mia likely didn’t know_.

Every step the interloper in the family unit took away, the rightful father would grandiosely stroll further towards him. “Anna,” Nevada slid up nearer to a bewildered Steven who found himself with his back against a wall, and twist his ring around his finger so he could focus on the gleaming gold and _try_ to keep his cool. “Annabelle, show your mami what you showed me…”

The poor girl winced, before dropping her bag at her feet and slipping her sleeve down just as she had done at the breakfast table. Bruises; Nevada couldn’t bare to look at them again- so instead he turned ominously to the now pale-as-a-sheet _Steven_.

The air in the room changed immediately; Mia’s arms fell heavy from their crossed position. Suddenly, her gaze shifted straight to the damned _boyfriend_ she had previously been defending. Plenty enough proof for Nevada; it didn’t seem to be a question of _who_ put those marks on their sweet girl any more. Steven immediately went to turn away, probably to head out the back door, so Nevada quickly snatched his shoulder to shove him back into the living room. 

“Anna-” Mia’s voice lowered, and Nevada’s brows bounced while he kept his eyes downward. That was the _momma-bear_ voice. Looked like maybe he wouldn’t have to fight with her over this… he should have known better. “Anna, go outside.”

She didn’t question, only slipped rapidly out the door.   
If _she_  had learned anything in sixteen years: it was to listen to _that_  voice.

Her ferocity even convinced Nevada to jump back, make room for her to fly her way over to the bastard who was in more trouble than he could likely comprehend. “MY ANNA?” Mia shoved at Steven so hard he nearly tripped over the coffee table, but he managed to catch himself just in time. Her palms fell upon him in a fury, slapping anywhere they could hit, and _hard_.

“Mia,” He was trying to appeal, to get out of the Hell he had unwittingly thrown himself in after a couple nights of too much Tequila, “she got me worked up,” He was pulling at strings- to be honest, he couldn’t even recall grabbing at Annabelle. Everyone knew her father, Trujillo, he would have never soberly put bruises on Nevada Ramirez’s kid. Desperately, held his hands out in front of him, hoping to convince her to back off from hitting at him just long enough so he could conjure an excuse. “She’s a brat-”

Nevada nearly intervened, but realized there was no need when Mia gruffly grabbed at that luscious blonde hair that belonged on a Ken doll. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare say a word about my girl,” she rocked his head back so quickly, he thought he got whiplash. Better than if she hadn’t let go of him. “She is **_everything_** and you’re a woman-beating scumbag.”

Instinctively, or as has become normal among them, Steven raised a fist- and Mia laughed tauntingly and dangerously; “You gonna hit me with _Nevada Ramirez_ right here?” At the mention of his name, though he had mostly let her handle the initial discussion, Nevada propped his hand up under his chin and wiggled fingers towards poor Steven’s way. “I fuckin’ dare you, pendejo, do it- like you do when you drink that tequila.” She was in his face, raging, and looking down right brutal as he meekly wilted in response to her rage.

Nevada could only recall a few times he had ever been prouder of his Mia. Benevolently, since he was well aware what would be coming, he curled an arm around the fiesty woman’s waist and tugged her back a few feet. Oh, and she fought him, dug her nails into the leather on his arms and ferally snapped her teeth towards her current beau. 

“Mia,” Nevada finally spoke up, loudly, and she twist to face him after she was finally let go. Now was one of the very rare times his presence was actually appreciated, wanted. “What do you want?” He spoke simply, while pointing a snapped-finger towards their guest when he considered stealing away through the house.

“What are you gonna do-” the way she said it would have turned him on if it had been eighteen years ago. His little spitfire, the woman he fell so in love with before she threw him and his lifestyle out like the trash he was.

Instead of indulging her with how lovely she looked when she was angry, Nevada proceeded vaguely and motioned towards his chest; “Oh I know what I’m gonna do,” then his fingers fluttered towards her: “I asked what _you_ want.”

She exhaled, sharply, and actually leaned in close enough to just press her forehead against the leather on his shoulder. A moment of rest, of thought, ( _Nevada fought the urge to embrace her with every ounce of resistance he could muster_ ) and she perked back up after a few airy breaths. “I want money-”

Without second thought, Nevada reached for his wallet and began thumbing through the folds. That was an easy request to fill.

“I want money, Anna and I are going shopping,” Mia glanced back over her shoulder at a pale-faced Steven, and the evil squint of her eyes would have made Satan himself shiver. “And Nevada, I want him out of my house,” When she turned back his way, there was a little bundle of bills being held towards her. She went to grab for it, but he held it still between his fingers. “Once he’s gone, I don’t give a shit what happens to him… he’s _yours_ now.”

Nevada smiled, and used the opportunity of their money-tug-of-war to grab her wrist. Very simply, he pressed his lips to her pinky; a Promise- before dropping the cash so she could pocket it. Apathetically, as if nothing had occurred and she didn’t have any clue as to what would be happening- she went about gathering her purse and coats for Anna and herself.

“Mia,” Steven tried to grab for her, to drop to his knees and beg, but he was given a sharp shove in the shoulder by Nevada. The force sent him tumbling onto the couch, and his assailant wagged a finger back and forth to berate him for the attempt. Without another word or concern, Mia happily left the little house.

Now Steven was alone; with Nevada.  
And he did _not_  like how this asshole said her name.

* * *

A couple hours later, Nevada dismissed himself from the room when his phone went off. Of course, he thought of ignoring it, he was busy after all- but he never let Mia’s calls ring through.

> _**“You have fun shoppin?”** _
> 
> _Mia giggled, and he actually was able to smile- “Yea, we did.”_
> 
> _**“You get somethin’ cute?” Nevada chuckled- he could practically picture her eyes roll.** _
> 
> _“Nevada, what’re you doin in an hour?”_
> 
> _**He glanced through the window, just in time to see Steven get pistol whipped. Again. Nevada had brought a couple good friends in, who were more than willing to help once they heard what he’d done to Anna and Mia. “Depends, what’re you wantin’ me to be doin’ in an hour?” Isnt’ that the real question?** _
> 
> _“Come take me and Anna out for dinner,” he could hear his daughter laughing in the background. “She found a dress for prom, she wants to show you.”_
> 
> _**Prom? “Prom?” That hadn’t been brought up yet. “She’s goin’ to prom? When’s prom?”** _
> 
> _“Take us out to that nice little Italian place and we can talk all about it.”_
> 
> _**Did these girls think he was made of money? “You two are spoiled, you know that?” He winced as he watched a rope get pulled around Steven’s neck. Those guys weren’t fuckin’ around. “I even got Jimmy and Louie out here to help me with somethin’ for you two, and now I gotta buy you dinner?”** _
> 
> _“UNCLE LOUIE!?” Nevada smiled as he heard the struggle for the phone. “What’re they doin? Papi, can Uncle Louie come too? And Uncle Jimmy, I haven’t seen 'em forever…”_
> 
> _**“You mind, Mia?”** _
> 
> _“Nah, I like those guys.”_
> 
> _**“Aiight, Aiight,” a look at the clock, and he whirled a finger in the air to give his cohorts the signal. They both nodded, then proceeded to shove a bag over the blonde’s hair before marching him out back. “Let me clean up my mess, I’ll see you girls at 8.”** _

* * *

“What happened?”

Nevada chewed his bottom lip, and watched over her shoulder as Annabelle wrapped arms around his two friends who had been by his side for ages & watched her grow up. “Mia, maybe now’s not the time-”

“Nevada,” though he tried to shoulder past her, Mia stopped him, simply by placing a palm against his chest. She never touched him, not on purpose at least, so the subtle placement stopped him in his tracks. “Please talk to me.”

Quickly, he lay his own hand atop hers, and wagged his head side to side. “All you need to know is that he won’t ever be coming to bother you again,” his partners escorted sweet Anna into the restaurant, leaving the parents a few moments alone. “And if _anyone_ ever lays a goddamn hand on you again,” he pointed a finger in her face, demanding her attention in the way only he ever could without getting a smack in return, “ **you** fucking tell me. I don’t wanna hear that shit from Annabelle ever again, and I’ll personally _slaughter_ anyone else who shakes her up.”

Without hesitation, Mia reached forward and curled her fingers around the wrist of the hand he held between them. Silence, but she used her hold to pull his fist closer- until she could press her lips against his smallest knuckle.

A kiss to his pinky. A promise.  
It was a shock to realize he hadn’t melted into a puddle, considering how his knees went weak.

“Ya know, Mia;” as always, he’d seize the opportunity, “I can take care’a you two…” Her eyes rolled, but he persisted, stalking close behind her as she turned to rejoin the rest of them in the restaurant. “You just gotta give me a chance, Mia, I’m a different man than I used to be-”  


At that, she paused, and he actually tripped over his own momentum and ran into her back. “Nevada,” she turned to face him, and rocked up to her toes, her familiar perfume wafted his way and he tried to bite back an audible sigh. Dreamily, the poor man shut his eyes, and held his breath when her face came so closely to his that he actually entertained the fantasy of a kiss… 

Instead, she placed her hands on his shoulders, and leaned her chest against him for support as she funneled her words directly into his ear; “that’s _exactly_ what I’m worried about.” As quickly as it had happened, she was gone, rocking off of him and actually knocking him back a couple steps. Nevada fumbled, and she sauntered cheerily into the restaurant without even taking another look at him.

An obscenity was grunted, a trash can got kicked so hard there was a dent left from his boot- then he straightened his jacket and followed after her. 

At least he knew there’d be nobody hurting his Annabelle.  
Not anymore. Thanks to Papi Nevada.


End file.
